


Write me a letter

by TrashGuardianGal



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: After the battle, Bilbo misses him, Depression, Letters, Long distance dating, M/M, Mixed feelings, Thorin and Bilbo separate, Thorin beats himself up, blood tw, possible smut in the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-04 06:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12764658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashGuardianGal/pseuds/TrashGuardianGal
Summary: After a head injury in his brave gesture to save Thorin, he has to leave Erebor and go back home for better care. Many things are left unsaid between the dwarf and the hobbit. They start writing notes. Each better then the last...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my first fic on AO3. It will be fluffy, and maybe a little smutty. Near the end of the story.  
> The story will focus mainly on Bilbo and Thorin, since it's mainly about them writing notes.

It should have been him. He started this. He caused all this death, it was all HIM. He deserves the punishment, not... It was all a blur for him. One moment he was struggling to keep an orc from stabbing him, the next he got the upper hand when something distracted the orc, letting him kill it. He celebrated, until he looked to his left and his heart dropped. Bilbo, his... Bilbo was on the ice floor, head held up by a rock that hit him on impact. He was bleeding. Badly. Thorin rushed to him, slipping a few times but he cared not. "Bilbo...!" Thorin called for him in desperation, but Bilbo did not answer. Thorin's heart began to race. He carefully sat him up, letting his back rest on his knee. "Bilbo..." He gently shook the hobbit. He wasn't breathing... Thorin's eyes flooded with tears. This was it. This was his punishment for his greed and selfishness. "Please, Mahal, not him..." Thorin whispered to no one, hugging Bilbo close to his chest as his body shook with sobs.  
He thought he would be placing Bilbo in his grave, so you could imagine his shock when everyone was saying Bilbo was waking up. Gandalf managed to fix some of the major damage and wrapped his head. He would wear a scar, but it was better then being dead. He carefully approached the bedside the hobbit laid on. He seemed to be asleep. Thorin sat on the chair beside him and sighed heavily. He couldn't stop himself from placing his hand on Bilbo's. He was relieved to feel it was warm, not icy. He then felt a weak grip squeeze his hand. He shot his head and stood, holding Bilbo's hand. "Bilbo...!" The hobbit gave him a tired smile, his eyes barely opened but Thorin saw the blue in his beautiful eyes. "Bilbo... I want to take back my words on the ramparts. You did what a true friend should do, forgive me for I was too blind to see... Blinded by my own greed..." Bilbo gripped his hand again, weak but he still did. "Do not fret... I don't hold grudges... I understand..." His voice was low and slow. He was tired... Thorin should have let him rest, but he could not tear himself away. "Bilbo, why...?" He asked softly, waking Bilbo back up. "Why did you save me...? After all I've done to you... What I could have done..." Bilbo just made a soft sound to show he was listening until he find words again. "Because Thorin, we are friends..." Bilbo gave him a weak smile. "It's what friends do..." Thorin gave him a sad smile in return.  
Bilbo recovered, but not fully. They did not have the proper care he needed. He had to go home, right away. Gandalf arrived with horses and a carriage for the hobbit and his belongings. Bilbo put all his things on the wooden mobile home, then turned to the dwarves, saying his goodbyes. "Tea is at four." Bilbo was battling tears, but he did not know why. Even the toughest dwarves in this bunch were crying. "My door is always open... Please come whenever you like." With that, Bilbo was off with Gandalf. On his way back to the Shire. Leaving his friends behind, but he had to. He needed to recover. He just hoped he saw them again...


	2. Feeling Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Thorin are remembering the battle in very different ways, Thorin wallowing in grief and Bilbo feeling a tad depressed. Then Bilbo gets an idea.

Thorin did not think it would be so difficult without him here. He didn't realize how big of a loss his presence would be. Sitting on his throne he found Erebor to be so painfully quiet. He had his chin in the palm of his hand and he stared off into a random direction as he day dreamed. He felt alone. Before, Bilbo was always by his side next to the throne. Bilbo was always around, whether he liked it or not he was. He was so use to his presence, so for him to not be here... But Thorin knew it had to happen. He had flashbacks to the war, nearly a month ago now but it barely felt like a day has passed. Bilbo nearly died twice, somehow he pushed through but he lost so much blood... He remembered having to step away. It hurt to see Bilbo like this. He felt responsible for it... He felt responsible for it all. It never should have happened, none of it, but he knew it was too late to stop it. He barely remembers anything clearly, his mind so lost in the dark clouds he was blinded of what was important. The things he remembers most is nearly pushing the hobbit off the ramparts. He remembered throwing his sword on him, he remembered rushing him and demanding him around like Bilbo was just another peasant. He forced Bilbo out there, into the danger. He should have kept him close, kept him safe. Instead he threw him into the heart of battle. After Bilbo woke up again Thorin remembered seeing him stumble around, so weak from blood loss. The bandages on his head were soaked in blood and he seemed to have clouded vision. He had to carry him back to his chambers several times, and hated it every time. He had no right to lay another finger on him. It was for the best that Bilbo was sent home. He didn't deserve his forgiveness, his kindness and his loyal friendship. Perhaps it was best he never saw him again... He has lost people in the past, this is no different. He just had to build up the stone walls once again around his heart.  
Off in a much more pleasant atmosphere, Bilbo was healing beautifully. Gandalf took him to Rivendell first, and then took him home. He had some issues at first, having to get all his belongings again and stock his pantry and lots of cleaning... But he was finally able to relax. He sat in his arm chair with a cup of tea in hand and a book propped up on one knee. As peaceful as it was, he felt alone. He was alone. Bag End was painfully silent. He was so adjusted to hearing the company tell stories and sing songs, he was use to the sound of birds scurrying across trees and the sounds of wargs howling in the distance. He had adjusted to being constantly on his feet and ready to sprint if he had to. To come back home, he almost hated it. He loved being home and having his comfort from it, but he was alone. He had no one to talk to. Of course he had his neighbors, but he can barely go outside without being bombarded by the Sackville Baggins', who have been persistent if getting Bag End and always made a visit once a day. They made Bilbo want to hide away from the world again, but his heart screamed for him not to. He often looked out the window to the world ahead, remembering all the beautiful scenery they passed by seemingly every day. He remembered the danger, the feeling of adrenalin rushing through his blood. He missed his friends. He missed Thorin the most. He was incredibly close with everyone, but with Thorin there was always a little something extra between them. He was so use to him being around, making him feel safe just by sitting there. He remembered the smiles he earned from him, how much he changed from their first meeting in Bag End. He remembered their hug, he remembered saving him when no one else could. In any other circumstance he would have just turned away, but his heart screamed for him to act. He would have been torn apart, but he did not care. They had to get through him first... The similar feeling rushed through again during the battle when he saw Thorin struggling with the pale orc, barely keeping the large blade from cutting into him like butter. He ignored the pain in his head and rushed to him, leaping onto the orc's back and scratched at his eyes to get his attention off Thorin completely. Before he knew what happened he was thrown, and it all went black. He remembered hearing Thorin call him but he could not answer. He couldn't get himself awake. He had no strength to do anything. He remembered hearing panicked company members yelling and arguing between themselves as they worked on his injuries, Gandalf often having to intervene. He didn't remember much after that. Bilbo let out a sigh and laid his chin on his arms as he looked out the window, feeling miserable. So badly he wished to talk to them again, to Thorin again. During his sadness he got an idea, and he rushed to find a quill and paper.


	3. Bitter Sweet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters are shared, along with some feelings.

Thorin wasn't expecting to see a pheasant land on the triangular wall of the ramparts. He was suspicious. He did not know who used pheasants. He mainly only saw ravens. He took the scroll the bird possessed, then watched it fly off. He pulled off the thing string keeping the scroll shut and opened it, nearly dropping it along with himself. 

 

"Hello Thorin. I hope this reaches you, I do not know much about sending letters so far. I have recovered completely, I get an occasional headache but it is nothing serious. How is your foot? I hope you did not get an infection. You tend to ignore yourself. I restocked my pantry after your lovely company raided it. Be lucky I'm not making you pay for it! It was expensive! I still have your mithril shirt you gave me, I keep it in a chest to stay safe. Sometimes I pull it out and keep it close, it reminds me of you. Everything I brought home reminds me of you. I miss you deeply, I truly do. I'm not use to being alone again, I'm starting to hate it. I miss hearing Bofur singing songs into brutal silence, I miss hearing Fili and Kili engaging in mischief. Not entirely sure if I miss the sounds Dwalin insists are "just orcs." I'm not sure if I'm the only one to pick up on it. I hope him and Nori are happy. I hope you are happy. Or at least in a good place. I planted my acorn. It hasn't sprouted yet, it will take time. The large oak tree will keep me company. The oak trees remind me of you. Maybe this one will make up for the sadness in my heart. I'm running out of room so I will stop here. I do wish you hear from you, but I understand if I do not. You are a king after all. I just hope you are okay.   
Sincerely, Bilbo."

Thorin sat in the large bed in his chambers, going over the letter once, twice, even a third time. Why was Bilbo writing to him? He should hate him, despite him, should wish for his demise. But he did not. He did not seem to have one ounce of hatred in this letter, maybe just a tad annoyance about his pantry. Thorin felt his eyes burn but he quickly rubbed them. He did not need to be seen in tears, he had duties to attend to. He placed the scroll on his desk and set off to find Balin. The letter burned a hole into his head for the whole day.  
Bilbo was overjoyed when a raven landed on his gate nearly ten days after he sent his letter to Erebor. He thanked the bird and rushed inside to read the scroll. He sat down in his armchair for this.

"Master Baggins.  
I did not expect to hear from you. I honestly thought you would never want to speak to me again. I do not understand how you are so easily forgivable for my wrong doings. I am saddened to hear about your sadness, I wish I could fix it. My foot healed just fine, by the way. No infection. Just a little sore. I am glad to hear you are recovering so quickly. I am sorry we could not help you the way you needed. I'm honored to hear you kept the mithril. I thought you would sell it for profit. You never got your fourteenth share. I'm flattered to hear about your oak trees. I do hope they don't remind you of me just because of my last name. I know it is a clever pun. Bilbo, how can you forgive me? After everything I did to you, how I treated you, why? Why did you save me? I did not deserve your saving, I should have taken my punishment for my wrong doings. It was never my object for you to be injured, especially not so badly. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything.   
-Thorin."

Bilbo read the scroll and felt his heart break. Why did Thorin think this way? Did he make it seem that way? Never once has he felt hatred towards the dwarf. He ran his thumb over light marks on the paper, water stains. Was he crying? He held the scroll close, so badly wanting it to be Thorin so he could hug away all the pain. He felt his eyes start to burn, and soon they dripped with tears. He wanted to see him more then ever now, but it was not an option right now. He put the letter in a safe place and hurried off to his office.


End file.
